


She's a Silver Lining

by thesnicken



Series: Margaery doing stuff and Sansa just going with it [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Not Really lol, also alcohol just in case that's a trigger for you or something, sort of, talk of being in the closet and stuff, ughh this is really bad but I just wantedit done sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:54:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3687825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesnicken/pseuds/thesnicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margaery's parents host the party of the year, Sansa comes along for moral support (and drinks a little too much).</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's a Silver Lining

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't turn out the way I really wanted, it started off being about them going to a festival, then a camping trip and now whatever the hell this is so here we go. I haven't posted anything in ages and I feel bad for that so take this for now and please ignore the poor quality.

"Do you wanna go on an adventure?" Margaery asked Sansa, the weekend after the summer had started. 

Sansa had just gotten out of the shower and returned to Margaery's bed to find her girlfriend shrouded in a bed sheet, rubbing her tired eyes. 

"That depends," Sansa said as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Is this the type of adventure that involves our passports or breaking the law?" 

"No, not this time. In fact, we don't have to go anywhere. It's right here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, my parents have this annual thing. It's some fancy party where they invite, like, everyone. They're a total bore."

Sansa understood instantly why Margaery was asking Sansa to come. A night with her family’s friends and colleagues meant a night of being closeted for Margaery. While the Tyrell’s claimed to be supporting, they had never opened up to the thought of Margaery being entirely out around everyone they knew.

Margaery always told Sansa that she didn’t mind the occasional evening of acting straight, but Sansa knew what the night would bring. She would have to flirt with the eligible men and smile at their inappropriate jokes and act like she didn’t want to punch someone.

“You sure it would be okay if I was there?” Sansa asked, not directly mentioning the issue at hand, but they both knew what she meant.

“Yeah, I checked with my parents and everything. They said it was cool. Plus, I’d sort of like the support I guess.”

"And are you aiming to make it less of a bore?" 

"Exactly."

"When is it?" Sansa asked.

"Tonight," Margaery replied, her head leaning to the right in a manner that slightly resembled that of a puppy.

"I can't. I have a family dinner of my own to attend to."

"Oh come on, you have family dinners every week, you can skip out of one teeny little one."

Sansa paused, biting her lip as she thought.

“I don’t just want to crash your parent’s party,” she said.

“You won’t be!” Margaery assured her. “I already talked to them about it and they said they could cater for one more.”

"Fine," Sansa sighed. "I'll call my dad, but I'm not making any promises."

 

It turned out that not only was Ned okay with Sansa missing family dinner, but he was also attending the party himself. Sansa got the bus back to her house to get ready before getting a lift to High Garden with her dad and mum who chatted away to each other in the front of the car.

“I’ve never liked these parties,” Ned commented as he pulled uncomfortably at his tie while sat at a red light. “They’re all show, but I guess that’s the Tyrell’s for you. They’re a bunch of bloody peacocks. No offence, Sansa,” he added quickly.

She shrugged her shoulders to show that she wasn’t particularly upset by his comment on her girlfriend’s family.

“I’ve got to admit,” he continued. “I was worried when you started hanging around with Margaery. I thought she’d turn you into some superficial Southerner. I’m glad to say, she had exactly the opposite effect.”

Sansa blushed with pride. It made her happy beyond belief to be in the position where she could be with the person she wanted while still keeping her family happy.

Her parents went back to their chatter until they pulled up into the Tyrell’s drive way. Ned had been right. It _was_ a big show. Sansa had always found High Garden beautiful and grand, but this went insanely beyond that.

It was clear that the Tyrell’s had aimed for classy. Unfortunately, they had gone way beyond that and into the realms of tacky. The fairy lights that covered the trees and lit up the pathway looked like overdone Christmas decorations, which was only worsened by the archway of fake ivy that stood over the door to house.

Sansa took one look around her after stepping out of the car and saw that she was horrifyingly underdressed.

She hadn’t been sure of what the dress code was and the only reply Sansa received from her texts to Margaery on the subject simply said, “idk sort of smart i guess.”

Sansa had then asked her mother about the dress code who said “Well it’s all awfully overdone. Far too flashy for my taste.”

This wasn’t of much help to Sansa as anything other soccer mom style jeans and shirts could be considered “too flashy” by Catelyn’s standards.

Sansa had eventually decided to go for casual-smart. She wore a simple floral maxi dress that complemented her height. She realised now that she had made a terrible mistake.  Everyone around her was in black tie and she was sure they were staring at her out of place dress that cost less than £20.

“Sansa, you look absolutely fine,” Catelyn assured her. She had a sixth sense when it came to telling that Sansa was embarrassed by her appearance. “Now come on we have to go say hello”

Sansa was dragged by her mother towards the entrance where Mace and Alerie Tyrell stood, greeting their guests. Mace looked uncomfortable and Alerie’s sleek, floor length dress was a reminder of Sansa’s own shabbiness.

“Oh hello, Sansa,” Mace said. “Margaery didn’t inform us that you would be coming.”

 _Shit_ , thought Sansa. Not only did she look awful, but she wasn’t even invited. She made a mental note to kill Margaery as soon as she saw her.

“Well, I’m sure we can handle one more person,” said Alerie with a tone that was both kind and cold.

She luckily managed to quickly escape as the Tyrell’s moved on to the next group of guests.

Sansa hovered around the room, tall and awkward and avoiding eye contact, until she spotted Margaery.

She looked near perfect in a floor length halter neck dress. Her back was bare, showing off her sprinkling of moles and tattoos that Sansa had traced with her fingers and tongue countless times. Her hair was curled and pulled above her head and managed to show of both the fierce and feminine sides of Margaery. The way she looked in that moment reminded Sansa of the fact that she would quite happily spend the rest of her life staring at Margaery if she was given the chance.

Instead of staring, she thought it would probably be a better idea to actually talk to her girlfriend.

“Margaery, I need your help,” she whispered to Margaery while tapping on her shoulder.

Margaery turned and her ladylike smile was replaced by a grimace and a shriek. She very quickly apologised to the woman she’d been speaking with before dragging Sansa away into a corridor.

“What are you wearing?” She cried.

Sansa grunted in reply while she continued to allow herself to be pulled up the stairs where the sounds of the party drifted away.

“You never told me it was going to be so formal!”

“I thought you would just presume it was black tie! I mean come on, it’s my family!” Margaery seemed almost as distressed about the scenario as Sansa was.

“Look, it’s too late to argue about it now,” said Sansa, putting on her voice of reason she usually only used on her brothers. “Have you got anything I could borrow?”

Margaery bit her lip while considering it which was really way too attractive and _god margay why do you have to look so hot at a time like this?_

Eventually, Margaery gave a shrug and guided Sansa upstairs to her room while murmuring “I _might_ have something,” to her.

Margaery hadn’t lived with her parents for almost two years, yet the room she had occupied throughout her youth and childhood remained very much hers.

The walls were fuchsia pink, but you couldn’t see much of them due to the posters of bands and celebrities Margaery had liked during her teens covering them. On her desk, old school books were piled in a manner that suggested she’d just been studying with them yesterday. Besides that, it didn’t look much like a bedroom at all, but more like a storage room (suitcases sat against the windowsill, a broken bicycle next to the bookcase, old bags on the bed) which was exactly what Margaery used it for.

After some effort, Margaery managed to clear a path towards the wardrobe that stored all the clothes she had no room for at her own home. She rapidly sorted through the clothes, shoving rejected items onto a pile on the floor.

“This is sort of impossible, Sansa,” she commented in frustration. “I mean for starters, you’re way too tall and slim for any of my clothes. And then anything that I could maybe make fit you is totally the wrong colour for you!”

Margaery was right. Where Sansa was slender, Margaery was curved. While Margaery wore vibrant greens and light blues, Sansa wore purples and any other dark tones that would complement her paleness.

Sansa moved over to the wardrobe, pressing her hand to her girlfriend’s bare back for support while she attempted to step over the mountain of clothes.

“What about this?” Sansa suggested. She pulled out a close fitting black dress covered in lace. It was made of stretching material, so it wouldn’t drown out Sansa in the areas where Margaery had more than she did. On Margaery, it would fall to just above the knees, but on Sansa, it wouldn’t look too short.

“Do you think it’s formal enough?” Margaery questioned, leaning her head on Sansa’s arm.

Sansa shrugged. “It could look okay with the right accessories.”

Margaery nodded lightly in agreement.

“We’ll need to do something about your hair too,” she said, flicking at Sansa’s hanging hair to emphasise her point.

Sansa slumped and ran her hands through her hair before stripping off to change into the dress while Margaery hurried off somewhere to locate some decent accessories.

It actually looked really good on Sansa. So much so that when Margaery returned, she rolled her eyes and said, “Well _of course_ you’d look better in it than I do. You may as well keep it. I’ll never be able to wear it again after seeing how ridiculously hot your legs look in it.”

Margaery then set to work on styling her girlfriend. Her hair was done up in braids and curls in a flawlessly stylish manner. Her make-up was kept subtle, but Margaery did an incredible job of accenting Sansa’s cheekbones and complementing the colour of her eyes and hair.

Sansa could see the sparkle in Margaery’s eyes at getting the chance to treat Sansa like a doll for half an hour. She had once had ambitions to be a beautician, stating that make-up was the only form of art she was any good at, but this profession was far to below the Tyrell’s standards for it to ever have been a viable option. She was studying publicity, but still took every chance to teach herself about beauty, whether it be through watching youtube tutorials or taking up small courses.

“I’m done,” said Margaery before sitting back. She tilted her head to the side and bit her lip, examining her work. She then smiled in a frustratingly adorable manner before picking up a mirror and handing it to Sansa.

She looked a lot better. Sansa wasn’t particularly bad at make-up, she knew the basics, but her skills couldn’t come close to matching those of Margaery’s.

“Woah, Margaery. You’ve managed to make me even more beautiful. I thought that was impossible!”

Margaery threw a pillow at and they both laughed. Margaery ended the laughter by kissing her girlfriend.

One of the things that had turned Margaery from a confusing crush into someone that Sansa loved was the way that she kissed her. Margaery had this way of locking her arms loosely around her neck but keeping the rest of their bodies distant at first, before slowly moving in until their chests were crushed together.

There was also the sensation of their lip-glosses smashing together against their lips and staining the area surrounding their mouths so that when they pulled away, they took one look at one another and laughed before grabbing some tissue to wipe it off then kissing again.

Sansa pressed her hand to Margaery’s bare back and began to lightly scratch at her skin while Margaery’s fingers brushed across Sansa’s cheek and through her hair.

Margaery pulled away and sure enough, her lip-gloss was everywhere. Sansa looked at her lips, angered by their sudden disappearance from hers.

It wasn’t a particularly sensual moment, but it wasn’t an innocent kiss either. Margaery had a way of doing this, teasing Sansa and offering her a promise that wouldn’t be fulfilled until later on.

“Can’t we just stay here? It’s cosy.”

“We have a party to get back to,” Margaery said as she wiped her mouth and fixed her dress. “Honestly Sansa, I would have expected this kind of slacker behaviour from myself, not from the noble Lady Stark.”

They hopped down the stairs together, hand in hand.

“I have no idea what you mean, _you’re_ the one who thrives in social situations. You _are_ the publicist after all.”

Margaery just rolled her eyes as they reached the bottom of the stairs and the entrance to the main hall.

Margaery dropped Sansa’s hand the moment they walked through the door and Sansa felt her stiffen slightly. She watched as Margaery visibly changed from Sansa’s weird and loud girlfriend to the pretty and eligible daughter of the Tyrell’s.

Sansa didn’t particularly mind being pushed to the side and introduced as Margaery’s “good friend” every now and then. What she hated was the effect it had on Margaery. She saw the way it exhausted her, constantly watching what she said or did so as to not give the game away.

Sansa wanted to stand close to her and hold her hand in an offering of reassurance like she would in any other scenario, but not here. Although she tried to stay as close to her without being suspicious, eventually Sansa was forced to step back and watch men flirting with her girlfriend.

Sansa stood at the bar, chatting to some people, avoiding others and drinking in steadily progressing amounts as the evening wore on. It was nearing midnight and Sansa’s head was starting to spin somewhat. She hadn’t spoken to Margaery in an hour and even then, it had only been a brief encounter. The part of Sansa that was not yet completely intoxicated said that it was incredibly bad for her image to stand at the bar all night, pining for her girlfriend. However, the rest of her didn’t really care.

“I’d slow down a bit, if I were you,” an elderly voice said from beside Sansa. “But then again, who am I to preach.”

Sansa looked to the side and saw Olenna Tyrell, Margaery’s grandmother, standing next to her. The very sight of the woman seemed to somehow sober Sansa a bit.

“I’ve not had that much,” Sansa mumbled.

“That’s a lie. I’ve been keeping my eye on you all night, you’ve most certainly been more entertaining than that god awful singer my daughter in law hired.”

Sansa felt herself blushed and tried to stammer out a reply but Olenna cut her off.

“I can’t say I blame you. There’s nothing quite as painful as watching someone you love in pain while being so powerless to stop it. It’s even worse when you have to watch them flirting with everyone in the room.”

Once again, Sansa didn’t say anything, she just let Olenna speak.

“I do find it all rather ridiculous, the way they force the girl onto every man in the room like this. I’ve tried to stand up for her, I’ve asked my son what he intends to do when she wants to get married or some man wants her. What will he say? He never thinks ahead.”

“I don’t care all that much about the future right now. All I care about it that Margaery’s hurting,” said Sansa, careful to keep her voice down.

“Yes, I would have expected as much from you. You are typical of your family, all pride and keeping other happy. It’s very noble but it’s impractical. It would seem that none of the Tyrell plotting and power plays have rubbed off on you. Perhaps that’s why she loves you so much.”

They were quiet as they sat together and watched Margaery dancing with some unknown figure. Sansa couldn’t remove her eyes from the man’s hand resting too friendly on Margaery’s back.

“I think you’re done for the night, dear.” Olenna said. “Your father told me before he left that he has a car waiting should you want to go home. I suggest that you take it. I’ll tell Margaery where you’ve gone.”

If it had been anyone else, Sansa would probably have said no and stayed at the bar for another hour or so. Yet there was that manner of Olenna’s that made her impossible to question.

Sansa carefully moved towards the door any managed to recognise the man she knew to be her father’s driver on the occasions where he couldn’t drive himself.   

“Am I driving you back to Winterfell, Lady Stark?” He asked.

“Sure, sure,” she sighed as she clambered into the backseat.             

She clambered into the back of the car and was about to close the door when she heard someone calling her name. It was Margaery, running out of the house with her skirt pulled up to her knees. She jumped into the car, pushing Sansa down under her.

“Margaery, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I just wanna say that this whole thing sucks and I’m sorry and I’m not going to do it anymore.”

Sansa attempted to say something, but words failed her. Instead, Margaery kissed her only to quickly pull away.

“Holy shit, your breath stinks, Sansa. How much have you been drinking?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that,” Sansa moaned, rubbing at her eyes.

Margaery laughed and Sansa, even when greatly intoxicated, could still appreciate the way it made her face light up.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Drink some water,” said Margaery.

“ _You_ drink some water,” Sansa protested before Margaery laughed some more and closed the car door.

**Author's Note:**

> I should be posting another margaery/sansa fic of a considerably higher standard soon enough, I've just been working on something else recently so bear with me until that happens.  
> As always, the title comes from a song lyric with the word "she" in it, this time it's a lyric from R U Mine by Arctic Monkeys


End file.
